


Then Came the Rain

by withprettywords



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Gen, M/M, Season 2 spoilers, preslash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-24
Updated: 2012-09-24
Packaged: 2017-11-14 22:36:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/520229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/withprettywords/pseuds/withprettywords
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On the anniversary of the fire, Derek is feeling sad and disconnected from everyone around him. Somehow he ends up outside Stiles' window</p>
            </blockquote>





	Then Came the Rain

**Author's Note:**

> Written to celebrate Teen Wolf's success in the AfterElton poll

_Seven years_ , Derek thought as he looked up at the battered house that he once called home. Seven years since he lost nearly everyone he loved in the fire. It’s been a year since Derek first returned to Beacon Hills to look for his sister, a year since he found out that she too was gone. Now Peter is the only family he has left, and Derek will never again trust his uncle the way he did as a child. Not after Laura.

“Derek?” Isaac spoke, his voice gruffer in his wolf form. “Smell something?” he asked, running over to where the Alpha stood and sniffing the air hopefully. He could see Jackson and Peter pause and look back at them in the distance. They were looking for his missing betas, just as they had been all summer. There had been no sign of Erica or Boyd for months and the Alpha Pack had been silent since they left their mark on the house. Their frequent pack runs through the woods gave them the illusion of control and put all the what if questions to rest. At least they could feel as if they were doing _something_ to protect themselves and find their friends.

“No, it’s nothing,” Derek said, watching Isaac’s shoulders slump with disappointment. He gave the house one last glance, growling at the symbol marring the front door as he took off in the other direction. He was desperate to be anywhere but this place.

They returned to the pack lair in defeat, high from the usual adrenaline rush from a run, but disappointed to have failed once again. Now that school had started for the younger members of his pack, they could only do these runs once or twice a week, sometimes less if they had a late lacrosse practice or too much homework. But today was Saturday and Isaac and Jackson seemingly had nothing better to do than play around at the warehouse, practice fighting like two little puppies.

And then there was Peter. He must have known today was the anniversary of the fire, he’d had six years trapped inside his mind to think about it, but his uncle didn’t seem to be the least bit bothered by the date. It was hard to imagine that the man who had once been so consumed with fury that he’d gone on a murderous rampage to kill those responsible for their family’s deaths could suddenly be at peace with the tragedy. Ever since Peter came back to life he's been oddly well-adjusted, which was little comfort to his nephew who still felt the tragic loss like a fresh wound.

Derek had been angry too, at Kate, at the hunters, at _himself_ , and that rage had fueled him for so long. But Kate was dead now, the town knew as much of the truth about the fire as they could know and he’d killed Peter to avenge his sister’s death. For once, Derek felt like the past was settled and the anger that once drove him was gone.

Now he was just sad, overwhelmed with the sorrow he’d held off for years. Those responsible for his family’s deaths were gone and now he could mourn. Derek looked around the room, at his dueling pups and his aloof uncle reading in his makeshift library corner. Derek felt alone. It didn’t matter how many betas he made, or if Peter rose from the dead to help him fight off the Alphas, or even if Scott agreed to be part of his pack, he would still feel alone. It was clear to him in this moment that he would never have a family, not like the one he lost. He would never again feel that love or sense of belonging. Feeling flustered and panicky, Derek stormed out of the train car and headed for the door.

“Derek!” Jackson said, looking up from where he’d pinned Isaac to the floor. “Come fight me, Isaac’s too easy.”

Derek scowled. Imperceptive little prat. “I’m leaving,” he said, kicking the door open and stepping out into the darkening light of early evening.

“Peter?” he heard Jackson challenge as the old creaky door shut behind him.

“No, I couldn’t possibly,” his uncle said in his usual amused tone. “I’m still recovering.”

“You were on a killing spree just a couple months ago,” Isaac pointed out, and Jackson stayed quiet on that one because his own killing spree was even more recent.

“I’ve died since then!” Peter defended and Derek could imagine his smirk as he added, “And they deserved it.”

Derek shoved his keys in his pocket and started walking. He didn’t feel like driving but he also didn't want the others messing with his car.  He didn’t know where he was going, just _away_.

He found himself walking to Scott’s house, mostly because it was in the closest residential area to the warehouse district. He figured he might as well check if the teen wolf had been more successful in finding information about their missing wolves or the mysterious Alpha pack. Derek climbed on the roof and was about to slip through the window in his usual sneaky way when he spotted Allison. She was sitting on the bed with a textbook in her lap and Scott was staring at her in that lovey-dopey way. He’d seen it a million times before and shouldn’t be at all surprised that Scott was distracted by Allison _again_ , even though they were supposedly taking a break. But today it really pissed him off.

Derek stormed away yet again. He felt a familiar twist in his stomach that told him it was maybe time to leave town. It was too hard being back here and he was beginning to think Beacon Hills would never feel like home to him. He just didn’t belong here anymore. But he knew this was no longer about him, or what he wanted. Now there was real danger in this town and he couldn’t leave Scott and the others to deal with it alone. They were just kids.

Derek found himself stopping in front of a house, one that had become far too familiar to him over the past year. He watched a shadow bounce around in the light coming through the second story window. The constant movement calmed him, gave him something to focus on. Even as the sky darkened and scattered raindrops began to fall on him, he stood there watching, letting the rain wash away his pain.

\-------------------------------------------------------------

This day sucked. Stiles woke around noon to find a note from his dad explaining that he was called into work and wouldn’t be home until dinner. He called Scott instantly, but his best friend fed him some lame excuse about studying all day, which obviously meant he was secretly hanging out with Allison. Stiles thought about calling someone else, but outside of werewolf problems allies and the other lacrosse bench warmers, his friends list was pretty short.

Ugh. It's _Saturday_ and his life is not allowed to be this boring. Stiles took the money his dad left on the counter for lunch and drove to get Chinese food, hoping for something, _anything_ interesting to happen. It didn’t. He returned home and wasted the next couple hours surfing around the internet aimlessly until his dad came home with dinner. He had just returned to his computer with a new research topic in mind when it started to rain. Stiles ran to the window to check if he’d left the windows down on the Jeep. He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw the water splashing off the windows rather than spilling inside. He was moving away from the glass when something in the darkness caught his eye.

Stiles pressed against the window, squinting his eyes to see Derek Hale standing in the shadows of his front yard, soaked to the bone.

“Oh no,” Stiles said, shaking his head. “No no no no no."

The werewolf stared at him, looking more disheveled than Stiles had ever seen him, apart from the times he’d nearly died. Who knows how long he’d been out there, but he looked nearly as wet as when Stiles pulled him out of the pool that one time when they’d nearly drowned. It was much chillier tonight and Stiles just kept thinking he must be _freezing_.

Derek hadn’t moved, though he certainly heard Stiles say no with his super-werewolf-hearing powers. He just kept looking up at the window. He looked lost and a bit hopeful.

“Fine,” Stiles said, throwing his hands up in defeat. He’d always been a sucker for a good stare-down. He pushed open the window and went to grab a couple of towels. When he came back Derek was dripping all over his floor.

“What, no?” Stiles said, throwing one of the towels to the floor because you can’t just put water on the carpet. There's this thing called mold that will grow and kill humans in their sleep. Or you know, maybe just give them allergies.

“C’mere,” Stiles said, holding a towel up to dry Derek’s hair. He tried to contain his shock when the werewolf took a step forward, bending his head down to let Stiles towel him off.

Stiles moved across the room suddenly and returned with a hamper. “Off,” he said, receiving a blank stare in return. “Everything wet off,” he clarified, not walking away until Derek shrugged off his leather jacket and placed it in the bin. Stiles dug around in his drawers, looking for the biggest clothes he had since it has already been established that they don’t wear the same size.

He grabbed a basketball jersey that his aunt had sent to him a couple birthdays ago that he still hasn’t grown into and a pair of warm-ups that technically belonged to the lacrosse team but were too big because bench warmers get last pick of sizes. He shrugged as he brought the clothes over to Derek, who had stripped down to his boxers, which were also kind of wet but he wasn’t about to tell the werewolf to take those off too.

Stiles gave him the clothes and went over to peek his head out the door, listening for his dad.

“He’s asleep,” Derek said behind him, startling Stiles who was convinced the Alpha lost the ability to speak.

“Okay. Good,” Stiles said, turning back to find Derek looking unsure of himself. He was probably wondering what he was doing here. Stiles had an idea what was bothering him. That thought reminded Stiles what he’d been looking at on his computer before the werewolf showed up. He casually moved over to close the screen, fumbling in his usual way and Derek’s eyes locked on the screen. His expression changed and Stiles looked up at him sheepishly. He’d been reading an article about the Hale fire and right there at the top of the page was a before and after picture of the now-burned house.

“I’m sorry,” Stiles said, and he hoped Derek knew he meant for more than just the snooping. Derek nodded, but didn’t look up to meet his eyes. That’s when he saw it, a tear fall down onto the carpet and for the first time he realized just how broken Derek was inside. It was easy to see him as the tough, scary werewolf guy who is always around to save the day, but that is not the Derek standing in front of him tonight. This was the Derek who lived through a tragedy, one he definitely felt responsible for and somehow managed to keep going even though he had nothing left to hold onto. Stiles moved forward purely on instinct, wrapping his arms around the man and pulling him close in a hug.

Derek tensed, but only for a moment. He relaxed into the embrace and let his arms wrap around Stiles’ shoulders. He was holding up some of the werewolf’s weight and wow, those muscles are heavier than you' d expect, so he moved them over to the bed. Derek looked at him skeptically as Stiles guided him down to the bed. Stiles turned off the light and climbed in carefully. Stiles looked at Derek with his puffy eyes and wiped a tear from his cheek. He pulled Derek forward so his head rested on Stiles’ chest and hugged him close.

He couldn’t even explain it really, he just felt that Derek needed to know someone was there for him. Stiles felt Derek break into sobs against his chest and clutched him tighter, rubbing a hand against his back soothingly. He kept whispering things like “it’s okay” hoping to be reassuring, even though Stiles knows that his constant chatter drives Derek crazy, but for once he didn’t seem to mind.

Stiles waited until the tears were gone and the wolf’s breathing had evened out into normal sleeping patterns before falling asleep. He felt relief for the first time in hours. His mind had been racing since he noticed the Hale story on his dad’s newspaper at dinner. He just kept thinking _Derek Derek Derek._ He wondered what it was that brought the wolf here, maybe he’d thought his name too many times, but whatever it was, he was glad Derek showed up outside his window because now, hours later, he could finally go to sleep knowing Derek is okay.


End file.
